


Phantom

by howilookk



Category: Kim Mingyu - Fandom, Kpop - Fandom, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26887027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howilookk/pseuds/howilookk
Summary: Where the pretty, cut up boy from class has secrets too heavy for your world to hold.*** just a short Drabble I wrote a while back. Light smut
Relationships: MingyuxReader
Kudos: 2





	Phantom

Mingyu comes to school with bruises on his face. You don’t ask why, he doesn’t tell. It doesn’t matter. Because on the nights that you aren’t patrolling the city he’s pressing you into your mattress with steady hands and warm lips. You don’t know him. Don’t want to. His body is enough. 

The city is restless of late. Less overall crime but more heinous in nature. You watch from the tower, paint covering your face. Ready for what the night would entail. What sort of sins would be committed in the dead of night.  
You wonder if the man in the mask will show his face tonight. The hunter. The assassin. 

You clean the blood off of your body before class. Scrubbing gently. You took a hit right below the collarbone. A long deep cut spanning three inches. A close call. You should probably see a doctor but they ask too many questions. Delve too deep into secrets needed to be kept.

Mingyu comes to class in his pajamas and sits next to you. He seems exhausted. You ask him what’s wrong. “Long night.” He replies. He never misses class. No matter the apparent circumstances. You find it amusing. Always 8 am sharp.   
He blinks slowly. His beautiful face still recovering from yellowing bruises.   
You let him fuck you hard and slow that night with your shirt on. For some reason you can’t stand the thought of him seeing you that way. Raw. Bare. 

You doze for a bit. Halfway dreaming. Of class work. Different formulas for the upcoming test. Of the man in the mask. His agile movements. Precise. Trained to kill. Barely escaping death at his hands. You wake with a start. 

A few nights later you lay together, awake around 3 am. He should have gone home by now but he can’t seem to make himself leave. You don’t mind. “Do you ever think... that maybe we’re all just trapped?” He asks.  
“What do you mean?”   
He doesn’t ask questions. It’s not like him.  
“That maybe... we do the things we do. Not because we want to but because we have to? And it’s never ending.”  
You thought about it for a moment.  
“Yes. Yes I do.”

You make the headlines. The news. The paint and the darkness conceal your features. “Man in a mask know as The Phantom brings the fight to the inner city. Facing off with local nameless hero. He has been suspected in the disappearances of three other guardians of the city.”  
He was picking you off. One by one. And you were obviously next.

“I’m coming over tonight,” Mingyu says to you quietly, attempting to not disrupt class.  
“Ok.” You reply.  
He kisses your face more than usual. A soft gesture you aren’t used to. His lips soft and light on your skin. The pressing and pulling of your bodies numbs the aching troubles of your mind, letting you release the tension. The thrill of the way your heart would jump with every pull heightened your senses. You could feel it coming. Sensations going awry and you feel as if you might break apart.  
Until he presses down on your collarbone.  
He’s startled by your response.   
You make sure your shirt is still kept firmly on.  
“Just surprised me is all,” you said. But your heart wasn’t in it anymore.   
You told him. Expecting him to leave. To get angry.   
“That’s ok,” he promised. Barely a whisper. He settles in under the covers.   
Tears prick at your eyes for some strange reason and he brushes them away. You’re shocked at the gesture but don’t react visibly.   
You stare at the ceiling. He stares at you. 

The man in the mask calculates his moves carefully. You breath deeply, steadying yourself. This is your third encounter. Lucky escapes permitting the survival of the first two. He was a hunter. Villain. You were the prey. Vulnerable, with nothing to lose.  
“Nothing to lose” you thought again. Somehow that didn’t seem to fit as right in your mind recently.

You dodge his blows. Quickly realizing that he was going to kill you this time. Third time was always the charm. He was too strong. Lean body, slim but wide. Your knife cuts through the cool air. He dodges easily.   
Moves beautifully.  
Why?   
His motives still unknown, but judging by his moves it was apparent he was holding back. It made you angry. Sweat beads across your face and you wipe the paint stinging your eyes on your sleeve quickly.

He falters. Hand dropping slightly. He opens his mouth to speak but can’t seem to find the words. Something in his eyes is sincere. Soft. Perfect caramel brown.  
A word finally forms on his lips.  
You take the opportunity to plunge your knife in his throat.

Walking back to your apartment, you don’t attempt to hide yourself. Blood covering your face. You thought about the way it gushed out of the mans already open mouth.   
The way you pulled the blade up through his artery.   
He wasn’t your first kill. But a numbness set it. You felt faint.   
It was annoying, but you would sleep it off.  
Your bed encapsulates you.

8 am. You sit at your desk. Ready to take notes. Eager for Mingyu to make his appearance in his pajama pants as usual.   
The night before buzzed in your mind. The class talks in hushed voices about it. About how the Phantom was found dead. Body thrown in the middle of the street. Slashed throat. Mask tainted.   
A rush of pride shoots through you. The city rid of another nuisance.  
“Y/N...” the girl in front of you calls, “can you stop tapping your pencil like that?” She turns back around and you feel the numbness in your temples again. You hadn’t realized you’d been steadily beating the end of your pencil on your desk. But you did realize something else.  
The way the man’s mouth had formed.  
The sounds that escaped before you did it.  
Before you killed him.  
A buzzing was beginning to sound in your ears. Voices muffled.  
You glanced over, the seat next to you empty.  
He is never late.   
Never.  
You are hyper aware Of every movement. Every breath.   
The way he used to say your name in the dead of night.  
That night.  
The teacher arrives. The class settles. The lecture begins.  
The clock reads 8:12 am.   
Mingyu always came to class with bruises on his face, you remember numbly.


End file.
